


Scratch

by orphan_account



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Champagne, Fingering, Jjbek, M/M, Otabek Altin's low key tattoo fetish, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 16:40:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11993760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: JJ gets his first tattoo. Otabek comes along for the ride.





	Scratch

**Author's Note:**

> "otabek held jj's hand for his first tattoo pass it on" - @kawaiilo_ren

———

_bzzz, bzzzzzzz, bzz_

Otabek stared up at the ceiling. Black paint flaking away to reveal aging brick. The air was heavy with blood and vaseline, and he had to admit, it wasn’t the most unpleasant combination. He was drastically out of place in his well-pressed formal wear, forest green suit jacket draped over the fold up chair he sat in; looking appropriately displaced from the 4CC banquet in some kind of demented turn of events.

_bzzzzzzz_

He could admit maybe the constant buzz from the tiny motor was a little cathartic. Needle pressing up on artificially tanned skin, over and over in precise black strokes. He watched the tiny drops of blood culminate on firm skin before they were quickly wiped away.

The long fingers entwined in his own squeezed a little harder with every passing stroke of the tattoo gun.

Otabek wanted to sigh, but couldn’t quite bring himself to follow through. 

He glanced upward on the low table, to the source of his current predicament.

When Jean-Jacques Leroy had tugged on Otabek’s elbow at the 4CC banquet he had hardly expected interaction. They hadn’t talked in months, not since Otabek moved from Canada and back to his home rink in Almaty. It’s just the way it was.

But there was hot, champagne-tinged breath in his ear.

“Beks, wanna have some fun?”

Otabek would tell himself he went along with it for the nostalgia, though the little voice at the back of his head disagreed, heart beating a little too fast as they navigated away from prying eyes. They had snuck out of the conference hall of the hotel and down the back streets of Gangnam-gu, one pilfered bottle of champagne between them.

Otabek should have suspected something like this, with Jean smiling like that, turning on his heel and thrusting out his arms akin to the finishing move of his most recent free skate program.

“Here we are!”

It took a few seconds in his cloudy, champagne-soaked brain to realize where they were.

“No, Jean.”

A tattoo parlour.

“No.”

He felt the need to reiterate as Jean didn’t seem to hear him and was already heading for the door, mostly-empty champagne bottle still in one hand.

Otabek wanted to turn on his heel and leave, but his feet were glued to the pavement. No wait, they were moving. Trailing after Jean and into the sketchy looking storefront.

_FUCK._

So here they were. Late on a Sunday night, Jean on his belly, shirt off on the black vinyl of the table, heavily tattooed Korean girl levering her elbows on his ass as she scratched black ink into the small of his back. Otabek surreptitiously half-hard in his slacks and he couldn’t quite figure out why.

Otabek did sigh this time. At least the tattooist was kind enough to let him keep the bottle, glass neck warm in his free hand. He took a heavy swig, ignoring Jean’s indignant squawk when he finished the bottle.

Part of him wanted to ask why. Why him? Why not bring Isabella along? Or some other skater? But he already knew the answer. 

Jean’s hand was sweaty in his own, though his squeezing had abated almost entirely over time. His face was relaxed into the balled up dress shirt he was using as a pillow, cheek creasing into the fabric, blue eyes becoming unfocused as he stared into the framed flash prints on the walls.

Otabek cradled his fingers in his grip and said nothing.

It was a rare silence broken only by the hum of the tattoo gun.

———

The skin was unbelievably hot and raised under his touch, a few relic streaks of thin, pink blood catching in droplet’s of sweat that rolled down the curve of his ass, and then onward to the back of Jean’s thigh.

Otabek's dark eyes caught the trail, and part of him wanted to lick the tiny pink droplet away. The thought came too late in his liquor-addled brain as it hit the white sheets and bloomed a little through the fabric.

They had stumbled back to the hotel in the early hours of the morning, hand in hand. Falling into Otabek's room, Jean making a bee-line for the minibar and tossing Otabek a tiny bottle of Grey Goose. He managed to somehow catch it before it hit the carpet, Jean turning back to fetch another from the mini fridge. Otabek's eyes roamed up Jean's long legs, firm ass trapped within black suit pants. The white of his shirt clung with tiny droplets of red to the small of his back, freshly-inked skin just visible through the thin fabric.

"You should take that off, you might get an infection or something."

He was just trying to be helpful really.

Fast-forward and Jean was bent over the single bed, trousers around his ankles and shirt nowhere to be found. Otabek's fingers of one hand tracing the black tribal patterns of the tattoo, the fingers of his other hand pumping in and out of Jean's ass in an unrelenting rhythm.

"Beks... please..."

Jean gasped, same cheek already creased from the vinyl table mashed into the white bed sheets.

Breaking free his gaze from the tramp stamp (how Jean was going to explain it as anything but to his parents, Otabek had no idea), he tipped his fingers into the small tub of Lubriderm given to Jean by the tattoo artist.

The ointment was cool on his cock as he pumped himself a few times over, eyes watching his other hand move in and out of Jean's body hypnotically. His fingers were quickly replaced by the tip of his cock, pushing slowly against Jean's rim, slick and pink around him.

Jean cursed and moaned, one hand unclenching from the bed sheets to blindly grasp behind himself.

Without even thinking, Otabek caught Jean's searching fingers, entangling them in his own. He slowed his thrust, one hand still on Jean's hip, he pushed the other captured hand wide against the mattress.

Otabek's forehead pressed between Jean's shoulder blades as he bottomed out. He paused a moment panting, feeling Jean writhe under him, fingers clenching and unclenching almost the same as they did at the tattoo parlour. He swore he could feel the heat emanate from the freshly broken skin of Jean's lower back, tickling his stomach.

The spell broke as Otabek lifted his head, pulled back roughly, and thrust into Jean again. Wet slaps met with deep moans as Jean babbled underneath him. He tried to tune it out but not before he caught an errant "missed you".

Trying to pull back his trapped hand, Otabek inadvertently lifted Jean's chest from the bed. The Canadian arching upward with a sobbed exhalation.

His brow furrowed and his pace increased, free hand leaving Jean's hip to grip his cock loose in one hand, letting his own thrusts do the work.

Jean cried out, and Otabek felt him twitch, hot cum rolling over his knuckles as he gave a last token thrust. He followed immediately in suit. Orgasm blinding him for a short moment where his fingers clenched Jean's palm unconsciously.

Otabek exhaled long and slow, hair falling free of his coiff to stick to the sweat of his brow. He couldn't help but stare at that tattoo with some faint intention of smearing his cum all over it. One day maybe...

He stared harder. Dark eyes narrowing into a glare as he finally comprehended the flowing black lines etched into Jean's skin.

_No fucking way._

Jean panted as he felt Otabek's fingers distangle from his own, lifting himself onto his elbows and twisting at his waist to stare at him. Blue eyes all sparkling and mouth wide in a smile. Otabek's eyes rose to meet them, mouth a stiff line cause he already knew what was coming.

Jean crooked his thumbs and index fingers under his chin and panted.

"It's JJ style."

———


End file.
